by G J Ogden
Doyle… Cad thought, picturing the wiry old tycoon in his mind. He looked at Draga, who had also now retracted her visor, and her dark eyes told the same story. That old bastard has to die…
Cad was then distracted by the sun glinting off the machete that Xander’s Group-X comrade had dropped. It was lying part-buried in the dusty road where it had fallen. Cad kicked the weapon toward the mercenary, who frowned at it as it bounced across the road and landed in front of his knees.
“Here, at least go down fighting,” said Cad, pointing to the weapon with the tip of his sword.
Xander laughed, almost maniacally, and held his hands out wide. “Come on, buddy, you can’t expect me to face you with that?” he said, looking at the machete in disgust.
“No, I expect you’re too much of a coward to face me at all,” replied Cad.
This comment seemed to irk Xander, and his whole posture became rigid. “At least remove your armor. Give me a fighting chance…” he said, dropping the buddy-buddy pretense.
Cad stepped up in front of Xander and stabbed the Black Prince sword into the ground between them. He then picked up the machete and stepped away, the Group-X leader’s curious eyes watching him all the way. Tossing the machete into the dirt in front of him, Cad then dropped to his knees and opened his arms out wide.
“Here I am…” said Cad with his arms still extended out to his side. “Here is your fighting chance. I am unarmed, and I will allow you the first move.”
Xander laughed again, the noise even more crazed than before, but then the mercenary fell silent, realizing that Cad was serious. Xander Blade’s gaze flicked to Draga, who gave them space, though without taking her eyes off him, then to Cad again, who remained motionless, arms out wide.
“You’re one crazy SOB, do you know that?” said Xander, though Cad remained silent and simply stared in to Xander’s eyes, waiting for him to act.
Xander snorted and shook his head, but then sprang up and grabbed the Black Prince sword, displaying exceptional speed and agility. He’d pulled the weapon from the ground and raised it to strike in a near instant, yet in that time, Cad had taken the machete and sunk it into Xander’s heart. The Black Prince sword fell from Xander’s hands and Cad caught it before rising to his feet and pushing the mercenary to his knees. Guttural croaks escaped Xander’s lips, along with a trickle of blood. Cad held his startled eyes for a second longer, savoring the moment before swinging the Black Prince sword and removing Xander’s head cleanly from his shoulders.
The severed head hit the dirt and rolled away as Cad let out a relaxed sigh. It felt like he’d just taken the first long gulp of an ice-cold beer on a scorching hot summer’s day. He wiped the blade on Xander’s pants then knelt beside the mercenary’s headless body. Rifling through his coat, Cad found a bag of gold coins – the preferred currency of outer bridge world crooks and dealers. Standing again, Cad glanced across to the restaurant building that he’d crashed through earlier and saw the owner, anxiously peering out through the smashed glass window.
“Come on, I think we’re done here,” Cad said to Draga, setting off down the street toward where they’d parked their all-terrain vehicle. Draga followed wordlessly as both left the burning wreckage and broken bodies of Group-X behind. Detouring past the shot-up restaurant, Cad met the eyes of the restaurant owner, still shielding his two frightened, but now also perversely curious kids. He tossed the man the bag of gold coins, which the restaurant owner almost dropped before finally managing to clutch the heavy purse to his chest. The man looked up and was about to speak, but Cad Rikkard and Draga Vex had already turned away along the long dusty road, and neither looked back.
4
Hallam’s head snapped back as the gloved left hand of Dakota Wulfrun smacked into his jaw. He’d only let his concentration slip for a moment, but it had been all the opening the spirited leader of the Wolf Squadron needed.
“How did that taste?” said Dakota, dancing back and grinning at him.
“It tasted like a cheap shot…” replied Hallam, wiping his mouth on his vest. The boxing gloves that both of them were wearing were certainly well-seasoned, and combined with the sweat that Dakota had already slapped off his face and body from earlier blows, Hallam conceded that her punch had tasted pretty horrible.
Dakota danced toward him again, snapping out a quick one-two, which Hallam blocked easily now that he was paying attention again. Then he dodged out of her range to slow down the pace of the match, which Dakota was winning.
“Perhaps you should pay more attention to your opponent,” Dakota said as Hallam snapped out a couple of jabs of his own. “Where were you just then anyway?” Dakota was wisely circling around to Hallam’s left, wary of eating a blow from his favored right hand.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Hallam as he caught Dakota with a right cross and hook to the body. “Perhaps I was just thinking about how the galaxy’s toughest mercenaries are trying to kill us?” he added, while swaying out of range of a swinging right cross. “And, maybe, that we’re about to attempt a raid on a secret installation on a hidden planet that’s probably teeming with Consortium heavies who also want to kill us?”
Dakota ducked under Hallam’s lazier counter-punch and thumped two solid shots to his body. Hallam groaned, but Dakota didn’t let up, landing another shot to his jaw as Hallam’s hands dropped low. “Less talking, more boxing,” said Dakota, again with a wicked smile.
Hallam wiped the stale taste of new and old sweat from his mouth. Dakota’s idea of sparring was akin to all-out war. “Can you clean those damn gloves, or maybe get a new pair?” he complained as Dakota continued to dance around the ring, clearly growing in confidence. “They taste like week-old socks.”
“How do you know what week-old socks taste like, weirdo?” Dakota hit back, resorting to name-calling in order to rile Hallam. It was an obvious tactic, but one she employed because it worked. “Besides, I have a better idea,” Dakota continued, snapping another couple of jabs out and backing Hallam toward the corner.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” said Hallam, allowing Dakota to advance. She had gone beyond being merely confident and was now bordering on cocky, which was playing right into Hallam’s hands.
“Stop getting punched in the face…” Dakota answered, lunging forward with a right cross. However, Hallam had anticipated her attack and dodged out of the way, shoving Dakota into the corner and pinning her there with a combo and fast punches to the head and body. The two continued to trade blows for a few more seconds before Dakota went into a clinch, wrapping her arms around Hallam’s so that he could no longer punch.
Just at that moment, the door to the musky, makeshift gym on the renegade hideout opened, and Dr. Shelby Rand walked in. She was closely followed by Ruby Rivas, the second member of the Wolf Squadron.
“This seems somehow familiar,” said Dr. Rand as Hallam and Dakota hastily separated, making their encounter look more suspect than it actually was.
“We were just sparring,” said Hallam in a way that seemed to imply they had actually been doing something else entirely.
“I see…” said Dr. Rand, stepping further into the room.
Ruby followed, blowing a bright yellow bubble of gum as she did so. “You two should probably put a sign on the door next time,” Ruby chimed in, clearly enjoying having caught Hallam and Dakota in the combative embrace. “You know, so that no one walks in and witnesses anything… unexpected.” Ruby’s yellow bubble burst and she licked the gum back into her mouth. The sharp sound was equivalent to a mic-drop.
Hallam felt it best not to say anything in response to Ruby’s veiled insinuation, for fear he’d just dig himself further into a hole. When he glanced at Dakota, she appeared to be thinking the same since she had also stayed unusually quiet.
“Have you located the position of the rogue world?” Dakota said to Dr. Rand, finally speaking up and also hastily changing the subject.
“I have,” replied Dr. Rand plainly. “Assuming you are
both available to discuss the plan?”
“Or we could come back,” Ruby chipped in, grinning like a loon. “In case you two would like a few more minutes to finish your ‘sparring’ session?” Ruby sniggered like a teenager hearing a smutty joke. She then began blowing out another bubble, while eagerly awaiting Hallam’s response.
“No, now is just fine,” said Hallam, tearing off his gloves and hurriedly making his way under the bottom rope of the ring.
The data that Hallam and Dakota had stolen from Damien Doyle’s data bunker on Fortuna had proven to be a goldmine of vital information. It had contained detailed data about the mysterious, secret Consortium planet and its top-secret facility, where Damien Doyle had stored his most precious alien artefacts. Unfortunately, the one crucial piece of information that was missing from the data was the rogue world’s galactic co-ordinates. All they knew was that the planet was reachable via a bridge from Vesta. However, there was no record – official or otherwise – of ships entering bridge space from the vicinity of Vesta, other than to travel the known routes to Orcus and Feronia.
Dakota had also pulled off her gloves then jogged ahead to catch up with Dr. Rand. She appeared eager to put as much distance between herself and Hallam as possible, to dispel any notion that their sparring match was something more intimate. Ruby, however, had hung back waiting for Hallam. She fixed him with an “I know your dirty secret” look, complete with matching eyebrow waggle.
“We were just sparring…” insisted Hallam again as he walked past her, trying to appear casual.
Ruby’s bubble popped, then she shrugged sassily and said, “Sure, stud…”
The briefing room was occupied by Commander Castell, looking as stoical as ever. Dr. Rand and Dakota had made it inside by the time Hallam took up his position around the circular table in the center of the room. Ruby Rivas also strolled inside then closed the door and winked at Hallam. As soon as the door clicked shut, Commander Castell tapped a series of commands into his console, dimming the lights and activating a holo projection of a planet, emanating from the center of the table.
Hallam felt a shiver run down his spine as he examined the unfamiliar planet. It was a dark, ominous-looking world that seemed to be covered in a near perpetual blanket of storm clouds and lightning. Frequent thunderstorms were popping off throughout the dense atmosphere, the likes of which even Thor himself would have been proud of.
“This is the rogue world that Damien Doyle has managed to keep hidden for what we believe could be more than two decades,” said Castell, forgoing any pleasantries and getting straight to business. Castell was well known for his lack of people skills, and his dislike of formalities and any sort of idle chit-chat. However, he was never intentionally rude, so most people forgave his lack of social graces. The commander tapped his console again and the holo image zoomed out to show the connecting bridge to Vesta, Damien Doyle’s other private planet.
“Where are you getting this data?” asked Hallam, noting the vast distance between the two worlds. “I thought we had no idea where this bridge was.”
Castell moved the display on and Hallam saw a small planetary shuttle start to head out from Vesta.
“Dr. Rand was able to tap in to the surveillance satellite feed from Vesta, so that we could monitor space ship traffic,” Castell went on. “And it seems that we got lucky.” The commander then gave way to Dr. Rand to continue the briefing.
“We spotted this small shuttle leaving the orbit of Vesta and appearing to head for the Vestan moon,” said Dr. Rand, thrusting her hand into the holo display to highlight the ship. “At first, it seemed to be just a normal ferry run to the mining operation on the moon’s dark side, returning some hours later.” The scientist advanced the holo again. “However, thanks to our hacked surveillance feed, we detected that the ship returning to Vesta was not the same one that had arrived at the moon.”
Hallam scowled. “That doesn’t seem like much to go on,” he said, wondering what was so startling about this revelation. “I mean, they must use more than one shuttle, right?”
“That was also my first thought, Mr. Knight,” replied Dr. Rand. “However, I then realized a crucial difference between the two shuttles. The one departing Vesta had a Shelby Drive signature, while the one returning to the planet did not.”
This time, it was Dakota that frowned. “Why would an interplanetary shuttle have a Shelby Drive in the first place?” she asked. “If it was just a short range-shuttle, then it wouldn’t need one, and those things are far too rare and valuable to sit unused.”
Hallam clicked his fingers in a sudden Eureka moment. “The shuttle run is just a cover,” he said excitedly. “The first shuttle was never heading to the moon. It was just made to look like it was.”
“Correct, Mr. Knight,” said Dr. Rand, smiling. Hallam couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. It was like he’d received a gold star from his teacher. “We scanned for the drive signature and discovered our errant shuttle sneaking off toward the asteroid belt,” Dr. Rand continued, oblivious to Hallam’s sudden sense of accomplishment.
“So Doyle built the bridge entrance in the asteroid field, where no one would think to go looking,” said Hallam. It was all starting to make sense to him now.
Ruby snorted a laugh. “You’ve got to hand it to that rich old goat, he’s a clever one,” she said before instigating another bubble.
“Since the shuttle would take three days to reach the asteroid field using standard propulsion, we were able to bridge a scout ship out there, before it arrived,” Dr. Rand continued, advancing the holo presentation on further. “The scout was able to remain undetected and follow the shuttle onto the bridge, giving it a suitable head-start, of course. Once it had returned to base, I was able to calculate the location of the rogue star system, based on the data from its Shelby Drive.”
The holo then zoomed in on the rogue world at a dizzying speed before finally settling on a building complex on the surface. Hallam leant in toward the image and studied the complex with attentive but also apprehensive eyes. It appeared to have been constructed from standard outpost blocks. Hallam knew of these temporary structures. They were essentially the planetary-colonization equivalent of portable office cabins, except many times the size, and transported by huge super freighters, rather than trucks. The complex was comprised of eight main sectors, each built from four or six outpost blocks. Each sector was connected by corridors, some of which had smaller sub-blocks leading off from them.
Hallam had seen similar planetary installations before, mainly on the more virgin outer bridge worlds. Once the permanent structures in the towns had been established, the outpost blocks were usually dismantled and recycled. However, sometimes they were turned into habitats, refueling stops, and even retail complexes or casinos. However, more often than not, they were transformed into establishments selling vice or other similar dens of iniquity. Like the rogue world itself, the outpost blocks weren’t especially hospitable, but the flipside to their intentionally temporary nature meant they were also relatively easy to break into.
“So what’s the catch, Doc?” said Hallam, standing back and looking at Dr. Rand, whose expression gave nothing away. So far, the scientist hadn’t highlighted any problems, which meant she was saving all the bad news till last. “It shouldn’t be hard to get inside a complex like that, so I’m guessing it must be guarded by a dozen Theta-class warbots, or that the planet is crawling with flesh-eating, giant spiders, or something like that, right?”
“Something like that, yes,” replied Dr. Rand, tapping her console again. Then the scientist noticed that Hallam’s face had turned white, and clarified her statement. “Apart from the flesh-eating spiders, of course. There are none of those.”
Hallam blew out an exaggerated sigh. “Well that one piece of good news, at least!” he said, adding a nervous laugh, though no one else appeared to be amused.
“Not that we know of anyway…” Dr. Rand then added, which elicited a loud snort-laug
h from Ruby before the scientist continued her briefing. “While we believe that the complex has a skeleton staff of enforcers, there is a sensor barrier extending for two kilometers around the installation. Trip this and any one of a dozen autocannon emplacements on the facility will bear down on your position within seconds.”
Hallam shook his head. “Do you actually have any good news, Doc?”
Dr. Rand thought for a moment then replied, “The lack of flesh-eating giant spiders is good news, I think?” she offered. Then she paused and gave a noncommittal shrug, adding, “Though I am not promising there aren’t any.”
Commander Castell coughed politely to break the silence that followed Dr. Rand’s unintentionally darkly humorous reply, and quickly moved the briefing on.
“We’ve retrofitted a small two-person ATV with sensor stealthing technology,” he said, highlighting the vehicle on the holo. “The plan is to land a single fighter well beyond the installation’s sensor perimeter, coming in low over the terrain to avoid the regular air-traffic sensors.” The holo updated again, showing the route Castell proposed. “A team of two will then safely pass through the sensor barrier in the ATV, cut into the complex through an outpost block in Sector A2, then retrieve the alien probe technology.” Castell entered another short sequence of commands and a holo-rendering of a large, casket-sized container appeared. The casket opened and an object floated out from inside it. Hallam had never seen anything like it before, though it was clear even to him that the device was not of earthly origins.
“This is the alien probe I discovered thirty-six years ago,” Dr. Rand said. She then reached into the display and enlarged the rendering of the probe at a specific location. “The component I need is inside this section,” the scientist continued. The image of the probe exploded and the component Dr. Rand needed flew out toward them. It looked like an enormous AA-cell battery, Hallam mused as he studied the object. “Remember, due to his radioresistant biology, only Mr. Knight can retrieve this component,” the scientist added with a sufficiently foreboding tone of voice. Dr. Rand then looked at Dakota directly. “Anyone else must stay outside of Sector A2 while the component is retrieved. I will supply a shielded case in which to store it.”